


tonight is all about we miss you

by serendipitee



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alcohol, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Multimedia, Recreational Drug Use, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee
Summary: "I know what's in betweenIs something sensual in such non-conventional waysTonight the headphones will deliver you the words that I can't (say)"- "Homesick at Space Camp," Fall Out Boy





	tonight is all about we miss you

-

**Messages: 506, 0 unread**

_Mork hyong_

(*^▽^*) /

good morning jaebeommie!

_Jay bee_

Good morning hyung~ is that little guy you??

_Mork hyong_

hm yea i guess he is

unnecessarily invigorated in the am...that Is me today

_Jay bee_

this is a real shock

Mark Tuan, sleepy boy extraordinaire

_Mork hyong_

hehehehe

look at the calendar beomah!

only two more weeks

_Jay bee_

omg it really is that close

holy shit

_Mork hyong_

it really is dude

i’m so excited! I cant wait to see you

_Jay bee_

you see me all the time hyung :p

_Mork hyong_

u know what i mean

it’s different.

_Jay bee_

it is.

i miss you.

_Mork hyong_

miss you too <3

-

“It’s perfect,” Jaebeom brags over FaceTime with a supremely uninterested Youngjae. “It’s expertly curated. I’m a genius.”

“So have you sent it to him?”

Jaebeom scoffs. “No? Do I look like an idiot?”

“Forgive me, hyung, for not being excited about your _expertly curated_ love playlist if you’re not going to actually, I don’t know, show it to him.”

Jaebeom narrowly avoids a bicycle courier (he shouts a “get out of the street, you shmuck!” as he speeds by), tripping a little as he walks off the curb to hail a cab. The L is running a limited schedule in his neighborhood so he’s just biting the bullet for this one day. “Yeah, sure, let me confess to my best friend of ten and a half years that I have a big fat crush on him through fucking Spotify.”

Youngjae hums, mutters something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like a curse even under the thrumming noise of the city pressing down around Jaebeom. “It wasn’t my idea! It’s your life, hyung. Do it or don’t do it but I don’t want to hear you whining about it in my ear for months.”

“You’re so rude when I’m not there to fight you, you know that?” Jaebeom tells him, climbing into the first smelly taxi that comes his way and muttering the building address to the driver. His bag is far too heavy to wait any longer, weighed down with vinyls and composition books and the worn, dog-eared copy of Webster’s Korean to English dictionary that Mark had pressed into his hands as a parting gift at LAX.

Jaebeom finds himself thinking about it a lot — the way Mark had held his hand in a vice for the last hour or so before landing and not because he was a nervous flyer; how he had hugged him, so small and familiar and clutching Jaebeom impossibly tight; his watery half-smile and the way he cleared his throat like Jaebeom wouldn’t know he was seconds away from bursting into tears. “I got you a present.” He handed Jaebeom this ugly little green book and the paper cover had an inscription on the inside, in Hangul and in English: _Good luck, Beommie. Here’s a pocket-sized version of me._

He doesn’t need it all the time anymore. The past five and a half months working at the JYP office in Chicago have given him a lot of practice; he’s squeezed every useful bit of English out of the dictionary to keep himself alive, understand conference calls and pay his bills, and he asks Mark in their long, meandering Skype calls for anything else he might need to know. “Windy.” “Tight,” in the cool sense. “Homesick.” “Freezing.” “Lonely.”

He already knows all the curse words from when they went to high school together. That’s helpful for living in the city too, for when he narrowly avoids getting hit by delivery trucks while he’s crossing the street or when he almost dropped his keys down a subway grate, when he got beer spilled all over him by a drunk Cubs fan his very first time at Wrigley Field. It feels good to curse in English with all those words that Mark taught him; it makes him feel like Mark’s there with him instead of half a continent away.

He wonders if Mark feels the same, if he lovingly spits every foul Korean word Jaebeom ever taught him while he sits in LA traffic. He wonders if he thinks of him when he does.

“When are you supposed to land at Incheon again?” Youngjae asks, perking up as if the threat of Jaebeom swinging at him was just a cute reminder that he was coming home soon. “Jinyoungie and I can pick you up if he’s not working.”

“It won’t be until like 3 AM, don’t worry about it. Mark’s getting a late flight out of LA and I’m just gonna wait for him.”

Youngjae makes a whipping sound and Jaebeom hangs up on him.

-

**Mark Tuan**

It’s Time

_Missed call from Mark Tuan_

….

_Missed call from Mark Tuan_

hewwoooooooooooo

_Missed call from Mark Tuan_

get online son!!!

**Lim Jaebeom**

Shit sorry!!!!! Ran late at work

**Mark Tuan**

you trying to ditch our skype date!!!

how dare

tell me this isn’t like that one time

**Lim Jaebeom**

No

Please

**Mark Tuan**

when you thought hyolyn noona was joking about going out w/ u

**Lim Jaebeom**

STOP

**Mark Tuan**

Abd you abandoned her at boba

LMAOOOOOOOOO

**Lim Jaebeom**

GOD

Hyuuuuung

don’t be mean to meeeee

**Mark Tuan**

┌(▀Ĺ̯ ▀-͠ )┐

I’m not the one who’s late

**Lim Jaebeom**

:-(

**Mark Tuan**

don’ t give me that look

**Lim Jaebeom**

:-(((((

**Mark Tuan**

:P

_Mark Tuan is calling you…_

_Call ended, duration 2h:13m_

-

Falling in love with your best friend is simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing in the world.

It’s hard for Jaebeom to even parse out when exactly his feelings for Mark became something bigger than friendship. He doesn’t even remember the before and after of becoming friends. He remembers the beginning in solitary bits and pieces, the bitter parts that became less painful to live with the longer he lived with them: the way the new kid just seemed shy at first, the way that shyness eventually belied frustration, anger, angst and homesickness, the way that he already had raw red knuckles and bruises and furious, wet eyes when he swung a fist at Jaebeom for the first time. 

He can’t remember the day that he first reached out to him, both painfully awkward middle schoolers in the midst of pretending friendship and human connection were things they could easily go without; he doesn’t remember the late autumn chill or the way that Mark held onto his hesitating smile until Jaebeom had already offered to go to a PC room with him after school and started toward the science building with a casual wave. He doesn’t remember how sorely he lost at League of Legends that afternoon and how he pouted, he doesn’t remember how Mark laughed at him and offered a rematch to make up for it. 

Jaebeom obsesses over it occasionally. Not as much as he used to. He used to want to find every clue, turn over every single stone in his mind to find out which was the one that had done it, which one had flipped the scales of his heart from the same companionship and unconditional love he has for the rest of their friends to the shivering, breathless tenderness it is now. 

He wants to rewind to the first time he ever looked at Mark and saw the things he can see today: the sweetness to his sharp edges; the way he cares for people intensely, subtly, in his own quiet ways; the loveliness all the way down to his bones, pretty like a bird about to take flight. He wants to remember when he realized all of the things that pissed him off about Mark — his relentless teasing, his short temper, his aloofness and tight lips — also made him foolishly fond because they were an integral part of Mark the same as all the good things.

That’s the easy part. Loving him.

It doesn’t really matter. The when and how are less important than the fact that it’s _there_ and that it has stuck with him over years of university and two continents now. It stays. It keeps. It pounds in his heart and in the lyrics he writes for work and Jinyoung and Jackson have sat him down on two separate, painful occasions to ask him, pityingly, if he knew how obvious he was. 

He did. He does. But Mark hasn’t said anything, has been the same for all the years Jaebeom has known him, and Jaebeom is terrified of messing it up and losing the person dearest to him. Or worse, making him feel like something between them had to change; the idea of Mark shrinking away or glossing over his discomfort with Jaebeom’s crush is unbearable. 

So he stays here, as comfortable as he could possibly be in crush purgatory.

\- 

whole lotta whole lotta whole lotta gay shit (7 members: You, _**Bambamie (ノ°▽°)ノ︵┻━┻, Jinyoung (¬_¬)**_ and 4 others)

_**Bambamie (ノ°▽°)ノ︵┻━┻** _

and that’s how i got three different old men to buy me luxurious items 

**_Youngjae_ (◕`‿‿´◕｡)**

bam idk if a starbucks croissant counts as a luxurious item 

_**Jinyoung (¬_¬)** _

also

did any of us ask

_**Jaebeomie (￣□￣”;)!!** _

Not a One

 _**Gyeom** _ **ﾟ･✿ヾ╲(｡◕‿◕｡)╱✿･ﾟ**

I for one was enthralled 

_**Mark** _ **∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿**

I’ll bet you were 

_**Gyeom** _ **ﾟ･✿ヾ╲(｡◕‿◕｡)╱✿･ﾟ**

???

what is that supposed to mean

_**Mark** _ **∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿**

O nothing 

_**Jackson** _ **ᕦ( ⊡ 益 ⊡ )ᕤ**

I am honor bound to appreciate the grind . but at what cost 

_**Bambamie (ノ°▽°)ノ︵┻━┻** _

ur all haters and i feel bad 4 u 

_**Youngjae** _ **(◕`‿‿´◕｡)**

i’m comfortable with that 

_**Jinyoung (¬_¬)** _

same 

_**Mark** _ **∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿**

Same x2

_**Jaebeomie (￣□￣”;)!!** _

same x2

oh mak ditto

 _**Jackson** _ **ᕦ( ⊡ 益 ⊡ )ᕤ**

Lmao

as dumb as this is

I can’t wait to be even dumber with y’all irl :’) 

_**Bambamie (ノ°▽°)ノ︵┻━┻** _

:’)))))

s o o n 

_**Jackson** _ **ᕦ( ⊡ 益 ⊡ )ᕤ**

yeah if you concentrate on school and not on trying to bag a glucose guardian!!!! 

_**Bambamie (ノ°▽°)ノ︵┻━┻** _

:’(((((

-

Jaebeom gets super high with coworkers three days before his flight from O’Hare will be taking him home. As he’s coming down, riding the bus on the familiar path across South Branch to get to his apartment, he has the world’s most brilliant idea.

A sequel. A second playlist, as good as the first, pouring out his feelings even more. The depth of his feelings. The vigor of his feelings. The feelings he’s feeling right now, three-quarters high in the middle of the night, knowing that soon, soon, he’s gonna be able to see Mark. Hear his deep, melodic voice and high, sweet laugh, see his easy flush and his long, delicate, strong hands, his crinkling eyes and sharp smile and slim stature, his plush pink lips and—

And now he’s half-hard on the bus.

His boner dies down but the idea doesn’t. He stays up arranging it until the sun rises on his last full day in the city and falls asleep with his hand halfway down his pants.

-

-

_Jackson_

hyung :)

hyung

hyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuung

_Jaebeom_

huh

_Jackson_

word on the street is... :3

that you did something cuwute

_Jaebeom_

ohhhh reallyl

_Jackson_

YEAH M AN YOUNGJAE TOLD ME

_Jaebeom_

thr dispresprt

the disrespect

how could he betrya me like this

_Jackson_

hold up

what’s wrong with you r u drunk

_Jaebeom_

>:(

noooooooooo

_Jackson_

LMFAO

YOU ARE

i knew it

don’t you have a plane to catch tmrw????

_Jaebeom_

last night inthe city fot a while

coworkers insisted

_Jackson_

ohhh your producer hyungs!

they’re too sweet to you ur gonna be a spoiled brat when you come home aren’t u

hyung

are you alive

send me ur playlist u horre!!!

Jaebeom remembers Jackson’s orders right before he collapses into bed, room spinning, fingers clumsy on the keyboard.

_Jaebeom_

im 2 drunj to kill u right nwo

here don’t u think he;d like this open.spotify.c....

iwait theres 2 open.spotify.co…

my best work ffor thev best boy

\- 

Jaebeom startles awake with a massive hangover and his bag half-packed, an hour and a half before he’s supposed to be at the airport.

His phone must have been going off for the last 20 minutes, if the way it’s shaking off the edge of his bedside table and nearly into the garbage bin is any indication. It’s a WhatsApp call from Jackson. “H’llo?”

“OH, THANK GOD,” Jackson bellows down the line. “I thought you died! Are you just waking up? Don’t you have a plane to catch? Holy shit, dude, even Jinyoung started worrying about you. Well, that’s probably because I shook him awake out of a dead sleep when you didn’t text me back but —”

“Jesus fuck, one thing at a time,” Jaebeom groans. “What do you mean I didn’t text you back? I sent you the playlists as soon as I got home.” He sits up slowly, testing the waters to make sure it doesn’t make him dizzy and useless. He knows the second he puts his feet on the floor he’ll have to keep moving to have any chance of getting to the airport on time.

Jackson hesitates for maybe the first time in his entire life. “Hyung. You didn’t send me anything. Nobody in the group chat has heard from you, except maybe….”

Jaebeom stops short in the middle of stuffing a tee shirt into his bag. "No."

"Don't panic! I'm sure everything's fine!" Jackson would be making a more convincing case if he weren't so high-pitched and panicky-sounding himself. "Maybe he just hasn't looked at the GC yet?"

But sure enough, there they sit, those proudly belligerent sentences with whole playlists attached.

In his texts with Mark.

With a little note attached to the bottom. 

_Read 3:42 AM_

-

When he gets to Incheon, shaken from a fitful sleep by a bumpy landing, he has nothing to do but wait.

Mark’s flight is coming in late to allow time for Jaebeom to escape from him. An hour or so in which he could run away; just disappear into the countryside, or hop on a flight back to Chicago or to literally anywhere but here, where he’ll have to face the fact that his best friend now knows he’s hopelessly, inconceivably in love with him. And that he’s DTF.

He doesn’t leave. He can’t. His mistake is bigger than him — doing this right before Bambam and Yugyeom’s graduation means he is going to just have to sit through his shame, stew in it like a slow cooker until celebrations are over and he can go wallow in humiliation elsewhere. The maknaes had been overjoyed to hear that he was coming back for this, cheeks pressed together to fit in the same frame on Facetime, both grinning so wide and telling him how excited they would be to see him and then tearing up when Jaebeom said he wouldn’t miss it for anything. He might be an iffy best friend, but he’ll be damned if he can’t be a good hyung.

So he just slumps in abject misery by the international arrivals gate, bag tucked under his seat. He texts his parents to tell them he’s landed safely, texts Jinyoung and Youngjae that he is in the country and awaiting judgement.

_Jaebeom_

Alive despite my best efforts

( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

_Youngjae_

sjsjskdjfkdjsl u drama queen

welcome home~~

_Jinyoung_

i’m sure everything will be fine. jaebeommie-hyung fighting!

During the flight, before he had even attempted to rest, he had started and given up on composing at least seven different variations of apology on his Notes app. They all sounded like tacky bullshit, meaningless. He hadn't had the time to sit down and think about how things went wrong since he woke up in a dreary post-alcohol haze 21 hours ago and ran across the city to get on a plane.

Not that it would even help, he thinks as he scrolls miserably through the messages. No flowery language would fix this.

"Please tell me the long face is over some depressing poetry."

Jaebeom's smiling up at the sound of Mark's voice before his brain can catch up with him. "Hyung!"

He drinks in the sight of him: face filled out from months of mom's home cooked food, smile wide despite the bags under his eyes, skin a glorious California-summer-gold and toned arms hefting a heavy-looking duffel probably stuffed with graduation presents. Jaebeom tries not to linger too long on any of it, despite how the sight makes his heart race uncontrollably in his ribs. He hopes Mark doesn't feel it knocking around in there when he pulls Jaebeom in for a crushing hug, arms tight around each other for the first time in so long.

"Why did you look so sad earlier?" Mark asks softly before they even let each other go completely, quietly breathing into Jaebeom's ear. He has to suppress a shiver.

"It's nothing. It's. Well. I was just. Listening to sad music." Close enough.

"Aw," Mark coos, squeezing his hands around Jaebeom's waist. Teasing the fuck out of him, just like old times. "Jaebeomie, our romantic." He swings his phone out in front of him, and Jaebeom just manages to notice the red tips of his ears before Mark is offering him one of his earbuds. "Do you. Um. Maybe listening to this will help."

Jaebeom takes Mark's battered old iPhone to look at the Spotify playlist offered to him.

And his heart stops.

"Do you — are you serious?" He laughs then, embarrassed, chest full to bursting with love. "Yeah. I think this helps."

Mark's smile is a streak of pink and white and red joy before he's pulling Jaebeom down for a searing, grinning kiss.

-


End file.
